Kill me now

The pout! The calm before the storm.   

It was a stormy weekend  of sorts. It started out well with a quiet movie night on Friday. Floyd only had a brief party-time in his crib that night. We were all up in the morning getting ready for the day. I started some laundry, and casually moved the washing machine a little to organize the laundry room. (It was out of place because we had had some plumbing issues.) Then the family unit wentout for some errands -dad stocking up on patagonia goods during their presidents day sale. By the time we made it home, I could not get out of the car. My lower back was in a major spasm, I couldn't even make it in the house.  Rob plopped me on the floor in the front room, and  there I stayed. I ate lunch on the floor and made a few distress calls for muscle-relaxers.  Rob ran to the pharmacy and Berta (housekeeper, our nanny's mom) watched Floyd.   At this point I could not even stand, I tried to crawl, but quickly crumbled to the floor. Rob dragged me to the bathroom to try a warm bath. BAD IDEA! Once I was in the tub, with much screaming and crying, when it came time to get out, well, yeah, uh, I couldn't.  Rob again carried me wet, shivering, and unclothed and dropped me in bed. This was some serious pain folks, labor, that was nothing. The worst thing about it is the drugs I require make breastfeeding a no-no. Luckily I have a 3 GALLON supply of stockpiled breast milk. But daddy is getting a baptisn by fire to the demands of baby. It is rather comical to see him struggle with defrosting the milk, preparing the bottle, and soothing the savage beast. I tried to hold back my laughter as he poured breast milk all over me when I was trying to show him how to put in the bottle liners; 1) so he would not lose his cool, and 2) because it really hurt to laugh.  By this morning I was able to stand and walk a little, but I am not going to push my luck.

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